


The practical application of power

by Prosodi



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 07:50:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/404045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prosodi/pseuds/Prosodi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-movie. Bruce and Tony compile their data on the Tesseract for the official SHIELD report.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The practical application of power

It starts by Tony giving Bruce nicknames - because Tony gives everyone nicknames, even his robots. And despite the fact that Bruce is savvy enough to know it's not the kind of thing that's really significant (Tony Stark has been known to call Nick Fury things like "Emilio Largo" and "Captain Crunch", albeit not anywhere Fury would hear except on his most ballsy days), the way Tony bandies them around the lab does a good job of pulling smiles out of him even when he's focused on work. 

"Throw me those numbers from yesterday, Green Bean," Tony says from across the lab. 

Bruce draws a loop around the files, throws them across the network with a swipe of his hand. There's a little chime as they pop up on Tony's end. "Green Bean?" 

"Gumby?" Is what Tony suggests as an alternative, but it's a little absent -- Tony has the files opened and is staring at the data; his mouth all soft because he's too engrossed in the numbers to remember the wry half-grin. 

"Jolly Green Giant, maybe," Bruce says. He doesn't really mean anything by it. 

Except then Tony looks up, looks at him through the transparent screen between them. A smile starts across Tony's face and touches his eyes, then runs off the other side of his face - settles in all crooked and smarmy. "Kind of a mouthful. Not that I mind." 

It's the kind of comment Tony probably means to stick, but Bruce instead ducks his head and says, very mild, "I'd buy that."

Later, after the mess with the Tesseract and the Pegasus Project gets stitched up and after all the paperwork gets filed, he and Tony spend almost two full weeks in what's left of Stark Tower's R&D department cleaning up the data into something manageable for the guys down in book keeping which Tony hates --  
"They're not paying me enough for this. I mean, you'd think running around with a nuke in my hands would catch me a break from paper pushing. I'm pretty sure that's in my contract."

\-- not the data part, the paper part. There's something grating about doing legwork for the sake of SHIELD record keeping. The cube may be literally worlds away, but who knows what applications SHIELD could find for the data. Still, things change. They're apparently a team now. Not that there aren't a few outliers. Avengers Initiative or no, he's still got people shadowing him. Bruce thinks he has time for a very short vacation in Stark's lab before he should really get going. There are still certain individuals with vested interests.

On Saturday he hitches a ride with a transport taking a few SHIELD agents out to Bangladesh for a thing, the details of which he's not clear on and doesn't really care to be. They drop him off on the way like they're taking him to soccer practice. "See you later, Doctor Banner" says the pilot, congenial in a way that Bruce can be pretty sure he doesn't mean anything by it. Still, it's weird to think about. Sure. He probably will. 

That's on Saturday. On Friday, he and Tony officially put the finishing touches on their report around midnight. Tony claps his hands, glad to be rid of it, and Bruce sits back in his chair. 

"I need a drink," Tony announces. He doesn't bother to ask Bruce. He asked once, the second or third day, and doesn't need to be told twice. 

They go up to the penthouse and Tony pours himself scotch from a bottle that probably is worth more than Bruce's life. The windows have already been repaired but there's hardly any furniture, so instead of sitting down Bruce goes to the window and looks down, down, down where everything is torn to pieces. It's going to be a long time before things are back to normal.

Tony joins him at the window, takes a swig from his glass. He chews the ice - loudly. After a while he turns to Bruce and says, "So want to sleep over?" 

Bruce turns on his heel slightly, doesn't take his hands out of his pockets. He looks at the sofa which is currently sporting a black burn a mile wide on its otherwise soft white upholstery. "Yeah no." He smiles. "SHIELD's paying for a room at the Waldorf. I've heard the beds are pretty nice." 

Tony scoffs. "If you like mattress springs grinding your ass all night."

Bruce shrugs. "What can I say, I've got simple tastes." 

"Get rid of those. Anyway I wasn't going to make you sleep on the couch. I was thinking." There's just enough of a pause. Tony presses his lip out. He rolls his eyes away and fixes his gaze somewhere beyond the window. "More adult slumber party, less pajamas and pretty princess board games."

"I like board games." 

"Stop deflecting." 

Bruce's shoulders slant away. He can feel it. He knows he's doing it and he forces himself to stop. To square his shoulders. He rocks back on his heels. He can feel Tony looking at him, studying him. 

"Sure, why not." 

"Huh." 

It's not what he expects Tony to say. Bruce looks at him sideways. Tony pounds his scotch like a pro and stoops to set the glass on the floor. For a second Bruce wants to slide away and through the cracks in the floor. It must show on his face. Tony says, "I read your file," by way of explanation. "There was a lot about elevated heart rate in there. I figured it was going to be like the alcohol thing." 

Bruce can feel the heat crawling up the back of his neck. A tiny flare of hot, embarrassed resentment. Tony read his file. He locks it down. "That was a while ago." 

"I'm not complaining, sweet pea." 

Tony doesn't touch him. Doesn't take his hand or tap his fingers in a staccato rhythm over Bruce's chest or shoulder. Instead he just gives him a significant look, starts talking about the data in their field report, and makes his way from the sunken lounge to the stairs and the loft bedroom. The data's interesting and what Tony's talking about is really speculation, nothing they put in the paperwork. It's all theory, exactly the kind of thing that piques his interest - which is how Bruce rationalizes following him up the stairs. Which is why he takes off his jacket and folds it over the railing and why he unbuckles his pants and takes off his shoes and why he lets Tony kiss him on shyly on the mouth (and why later Bruce pins Tony to the mattress and kisses him without any kind of gentleness, all tongue and teeth and hot panting breath as Tony presses his knee up between his legs). 

"With some modifications," Tony is saying against his mouth. "--could apply some of it to the suit's power relays. Improve the, uh, refractory period." Bruce can feel him smiling at his own joke. It makes him laugh. Tony nips his lower lip and demands, "What?" 

Bruce pins Tony's wrists above his head with one hand, slides the other down Tony's naked stomach. Tony mentions something about SHIELD fraternization policies, how there's probably a paragraph or two about this in the handbook, and then stops talking when Bruce touches him - when Bruce rolls his hips and grinds against the hard line of his cock. "You'd need a hell of a dampener coil to keep from getting boiled like an egg," Bruce hears himself say.

Tony's wrists flex under his palm. "You'd know all about that," he says and then swears when Bruce presses them together with his hand.

Bruce fucks against the friction of his own fingers and Tony-- for a while it's like leaving his own skin. Tony's thick wrists. Tony's mouth. The scrape of Tony's facial hair--

The next morning Bruce has just enough time to get his things from the Waldorf, to wolf down breakfast and put the pillow mints in his jacket pocket. He chews on the mints halfway through the flight to Calcutta once he remembered they're there; he doesn't think about when he'll be in the States next, but he does think about the practical application of power.


End file.
